Note how our shadow, note Movitz mon frére Within a darkness itself closes How gold and purple in the shovel, that one Changes into gravel and rags Waves Charon from his murmuring river And three times then the grave-digger himself More you your grape wont squish Therefore Movitz come help me and arch Tombstone over our sister The little-bell tolls to the big-bells boom Leafed stand the cantor at the gate And at the bawling boys prayer Hallowing this place Up to the temples grave-adorned town Strides between roses yellowing leafs Molting planks and litters Until the long and black dressed line Deeply bows itself in tears So went to rest from fight and from ball Quarreler Löfberg your spouse There, where to the grass long-necked and thin You still glare back She from Dantobommen* separated today And with her all frolicsome times Whom shall now the bottle befall Thirsty was she, and thirsty am I We are thirsty all * (Dantobommen was a pub in Tanto, Stockholm, which was situated next to one of the many tolls one had to pass to enter the city.)
Posted on: Sat, 22 Mar 2014 01:01:34 +0000
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